


Grounding

by Harukami



Series: Gravity [2]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine's words give Ren a realization he'd been working hard to avoid, and Ren has to decide how to deal with it -- especially given that Clear and Aoba are in a relationship.</p><p>Oops I wrote a stand-alone sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2568200">Flight</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grounding

The household has certainly become a lot livelier since Nine and Haruka returned home. They took their old room, of course, which meant that Clear was now actually sharing a room with Aoba; not something Ren believed Aoba minded, exactly. When they'd been travelling, they'd gotten used to it, but it's different, for sure. Everything feels more crowded, certainly, even if it's a little fun.

Clear likes it, of course, quite a bit. Not just because he gets to spend even more time with Aoba, but because Ren stays in Aoba's room as well, naturally. So the they get up to even more antics than before. Aoba's found that there's sort of a cyclical way about it. He and Clear will gang up on Ren to fluff him silly; Ren and Clear will gang up on Aoba for any number of things. Ren, obviously, tattles on Clear to Aoba endlessly when Clear's making a mess, or doing something absurd, or so on. They had picked up even more of this closeness when out seeing the world, and now that they are back and crowded into a small living area, it's easy to maintain.

But it's a little tiring as well, Ren thinks. He misses a lot of it in sleep mode, but it's still tiring. Both Haruka and Nine are high energy, and the tone of the household has shifted. It's not a bad thing -- in fact, it might be how this home was supposed to be -- but there's an ache inside him that's hard to explain in any logical sense of things. He feels very much on the outside looking in, and while it's silly to get sentimental about that -- he is an Allmate, after all -- he does.

Even so, he can't really bring himself to get closer. He sees Nine watching him sometimes with a thoughtful red eye, and he balks at trying to bring himself into the fold. There's a look in Nine's eye like he knows something, and while it makes as little sense to feel fear about that as it does to feel sentimental about anything, he does that too.

***

It eventually happens one of the times Aoba and Clear have headed out to Clear's old home. They made the trip not infrequently before, but it's even more frequent now that there is virtually no way to get some privacy in their own home. Aoba and Clear are, after all, certainly an intimate couple, Ren thinks. 

Although when he went to work, or out anywhere on his own, Aoba would take Ren along with him, Ren's usually left behind at the times that Aoba and Clear go to Clear's place. He doesn't mind it, genuinely. For a relationship to work, it needs moments that just have the two of them. Being a machine himself, Clear always includes Ren as a person in their lives; as such, there are places a third person shouldn't be, but also as such, he has no fear that he will ever be abandoned by them. It's something that Clear, especially, has actively worked to dismantle, and while he's a little embarrassed to know that kind of anxiety could have existed in him in the first place, it has become something a little pleasurable in itself. He can tell them to go and come back safely, and sit and watch them leap out the window, and feel secure in the knowledge they will, in fact, come back to him. Secure in the knowledge that he is helping them strengthen their relationship.

Today, he is woken from sleep by someone else's hand on his forehead, not Aoba's. He returns to his active mode in some confusion, not sure why he's awake now, nor with whom, and looks up into Nine's bright face.

"Good morning, Ren," Nine says.

Ren sits up and pushes down his reaction. "Good morning, Nine," he says. "Can I help you in some way?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," Nine says. "I just thought I'd get to meet my other son properly."

Ren can't hide how at a loss he is, nor does he try, tilting his head to the side and flicking his ears. "I'm not sure I understand," he says. "Do you mean Aoba's affection for me?" Certainly, Aoba had joked before that they were like brothers. "I am pleased to be considered so highly, but please do understand that I am simply an Allmate."

Nine's expression grows a bit strange. "...You don't know."

"What?"

"No, I'm sorry," Nine says, covering his mouth with a hand, rubbing at his jaw, visibly discomfited. "I must sound like I said something very strange."

Well. It certainly sounds stranger now, Ren thinks, but doesn't say. There's an uneasy feeling building inside him that he can't quite identify, a sense that asking too much, or thinking too much, would be dangerous. "Yes," he says. "Somewhat."

Nine nods affably and puts Ren on his chest, flopping back onto Aoba's bed. Ren tenses for the petting to start, but it doesn't; it just seems that Nine wanted to get the proper vantage to look into his face. "Well," he says. "Why don't you tell me about yourself instead, then?"

Unsure what to say, that itching feeling growing stronger, Ren licks his nose uneasily. "Yes," he says. "I was a discarded model whom Aoba found in the trash about twelve years ago now. He activated me shortly thereafter and we were together since. It appears we spent some time playing 'Rhyme', according to an acquaintance, but neither of us have any memory of that situation."

"Ah," Nine says, in a tone of sudden understanding. "So your memories were tampered with."

"...I suppose they must have been," Ren admits, uneasily. It's impossible not to realize what Nine has implied with all this. There's a connection between him and Aoba beyond his being an Allmate. The only reason he doesn't know it is because his memory has been tampered with.

Perhaps it's something he should think about -- but he doesn't want to. He's _afraid_ to. No matter what, he thinks, that implies an inherent change. Once he's realized the 'truth' -- whatever the truth is, if there is a buried truth at all -- wouldn't things have to change? If Aoba found out, wouldn't things necessarily change? If he wasn't an 'Allmate', could he remain playing the role of 'Allmate'? And besides, he thinks, it would be a betrayal to Clear--

He stops himself there. Why would it be a betrayal to Clear?

It feels to Ren like he's on the edge of a breakthrough he doesn't want to have, hovering at the edge of a realization. It might even be that he's already realized whatever it is, he thinks, and is simply denying it. He can feel himself think it -- that one of the areas where he and Clear have bonded is that they are both robots, both have the limitations of artificial life, both love and are devoted to Aoba. From the beginning, their own relationship has been based on that fact. If he isn't really an Allmate--

And he thinks, I'm not. I'm not really an Allmate.

He doesn't want to follow that thread of thought any further. He doesn't have a heart to race, doesn't know what it feels like except when monitoring it in Aoba, but has that same sort of alert, at least metaphorically, as when he's sensed it in Aoba. He stands up on Nine.

"Ren-?"

He should say something. Excuse himself. Be polite about it, as always. He doesn't, though. He struggles against the desperate urge to escape, can't win, hops off Nine and runs downstairs. Tae is downstairs, getting dinner started. If Tae is there, Nine won't follow and continue to ask these questions. There's no way. Tae's always been willing to hide these things. 

"Ren...? What even," she mutters, as Ren skids into the kitchen, hunches under a chair. He doesn't need to breathe hard, but he fights against the urge to do so anyway. Inside him, the horrible thought keeps swelling up like a bubble that wants to be burst, keeps filling with air. 

I'm not actually an Allmate.

He refuses to ask himself what he is then. He thinks that if he lets himself think about it, he'll find an answer.

He doesn't want anything to change. He doesn't want to stop being Aoba's Allmate. He doesn't want Clear to be alone. He doesn't want to lose what he has.

***

"Ren, what's wrong?"

"Ren-san?"

He's showing it, he thinks. He's overwhelmed with the effort of fighting his own thoughts. Even now, in Clear's hands, getting ruffled, he'd normally continue to argue. He has to remember to continue to protest, he thinks. Instead, he'd felt a sudden need for this to continue. Clear pets him this way because he relates to him. Aoba allows it because he thinks it's cute to see his Allmate in this position. 

"It's nothing," he says, stiffly. "Please release me."

"Ehh..." Clear lifts him, attempting to look him in the eye. Ren avoids it. "Ren-san, you were suspiciously distracted."

"I had some things on my mind."

Aoba shifts in closer next to them. "Something bothering you?"

"It's nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing."

"Please ignore me," Ren says, and feels, again, that horrible itching feeling. "I just remembered there was something I have to do."

Aoba blinks. "Huh -- Ren!"

But he's managed to squirm out of Clear's grip, falling to the ground, scrambling upright a moment later and dashing out of the room. He hears them getting up to follow, and scrambles faster, embarrassed and alarmed at his own behavior. Where can he even go? The only thought he has is that he should go _away_ until he's managed to make himself act normal again. But Aoba won't like that. Clear won't like that. But he can't stay around them until he's figured out how to act normal again.

He needs to get away.

There's no hiding with Tae, not this time; while he could come up with some excuse if it were Nine -- embarrassing as that was -- he could never justify hiding from Aoba. He hears raised voices in the kitchen, avoids that area, dodging around to the living room and shimmying under the couch instead. He can't open the door himself so he has to stay in the apartment anyway. That's just as well. Where would he even go?

Under the sofa, he's almost invisible with his dark fur, and lies there feeling stupid and embarrassing and like there's no way to explain his reaction to them later. He'll just apologize and apologize and worry them more.

"--Can't believe you haven't told them, Mom!"

That's Haruka, her voice pitched a little high in distress. Ren freezes, cocks his ears forward a little. Even so, Tae's hard to hear.

"--didn't -- even with what I told -- didn't know. Things I -- not that."

"All right, so you didn' t know that," Nine says placatingly. "That's fair enough. It's not like you could hear them like I could."

"You must have had some idea!" Haruka protests. 

Again, too quiet to hear: "Promise -- kept from him -- brother."

There's silence again. And then, in his clear, strong tone: "He has a what?" Nine says.

"Didn't want to -- you'd just try to find -- too late now. He was with -- but Aoba's not part of -- so --"

Haruka says something too quiet to make out again, and then, in a rising tone: "--No way to find him now anyway, not with Oval Tower gone. But you had to know he had a chance of running into him if he went there! You should have told him! He might have saved him if you had!"

"But he didn't even see him!" Tae says, her own voice rising in a cracked irritation. "He needed to focus on what was in front of him-! Anyway, I don't think that's got anything to do with this! I didn't tell him _that_ , but I don't know anything about _this_! Of course I knew he had multiple personalities, but I never heard about one living in Ren!"

He's heard too much. He hunches down, tries to turn his hearing off, something, but he can't. He's heard too much. There's no avoiding it now. 

He should have realized there'd be no avoiding it, he thinks, grimly. Even hearing it, it's not a surprise. He thinks on some level he's known this for a long time. It's just that with his memories gone, he had the ability to deny it. To just be 'Ren', Aoba's Allmate. That's all. 

_I know what I am_ , he thinks. It doesn't feel like power. It just feels like responsibility, a weight around his neck, an emptiness inside himself. He's a sham, here to protect Aoba and living a lie to do it. He related to Clear, let Clear feel like he wasn't alone, but he is. Allmates have their own ability to think and feel, of course, based on artificial intelligence and emotional programming. If they didn't, he probably couldn't have come to this body. He's a person, or, at least, a personality. He needs to think and feel in order to be real. But that was enough. It was close enough.

He closes his eyes as memories come rushing back. Aoba crying on the beach. Arguing with the other one inside Aoba. Aoba's pain when Haruka and Nine left, amplified in Desire's outrage, his own attempts to push things down so Aoba could function. It not working, Desire and Reason both overflowing with frustration and anger. Meeting Koujaku, that feeling abating and then swelling and bursting past him when Koujaku left too. The two of them together were impossible to be heard over, and he remembers hesitating to try to overpower them for fear of hurting either of them. He remembers seeing Aoba finding that body in the trash and thinking it was a chance. He remembers after, pretending, pretending, pretending, right up until -- when? He still can't remember what exactly it was that had suppressed his memory. Something after some Rhyme game. It's still foggy.

It doesn't matter though.

He remembers pretending. He thinks he can pretend. It'll be fine. He'll just lie to them both.

It's not like he's 'Aoba' any more anyway.

The voices in the kitchen suddenly fall silent. "Sorry, Grandma! Mom, Dad. Have you seen Ren?"

Of course. Aoba and Clear are looking for him. It's mortifying really. Trying to run from this realization that he was just a fragment. Not an Allmate, not Aoba, not a person, just a scrap of personality traits that got loose. But he can pretend. He can keep pretending, like he had before he forgot. He can be Ren, the Allmate, and pretend to be like Clear and unlike Aoba.

"Ren!" Aoba calls. Ren sees his distinctly-colored socks pad past the sofa. "Ren, where are you?"

"Ren-san!" 

He's just embarrassing, he thinks, and squirms out from under the couch. "Aoba. Clear."

It's worse, too, how worried they are when they see him. Aoba goes to scoop him up, then hesitates, arms outstretched. "Ren, what's wrong?"

"Are you feeling unwell, Ren-san?" Clear frowns at him with deep consternation. 

It's a good excuse, at least. "Yes," he says. "I apologize. I'm very sorry. I don't know what came over me. I just suddenly needed to run around."

Slowly, carefully, Aoba reaches for him, scoops him into his arms. "Run around, huh," he says. "So, your motor system?"

Ren realizes almost too late that it's the wrong tack to take. After the incident with Clear's motor system that would only worry the both of them the more. He shakes himself, which makes Aoba tense up again, then puts a paw on Aoba's hand on him. "Not my motor system," he says. "I don't believe so. It was simply an error in my desire, not a mechanical error in my body."

"Ehhh," Clear says. "That's still worrisome, Ren-san! But don't worry. There are plenty of people who can help research. And I know that Aoba-san has been gathering parts in case anything needs replacing."

"I think we should do a systems diagnostics before we start talking about replacing anything," Aoba says firmly. "Come on, you guys."

He carries Ren up the stairs, Clear following behind them, and Ren tries to remember how he'd normally behave. That awful panicky feeling is welling up in him again, the sense that he needs to get away, but that's not how he should act. This is fine. He's Ren, the Allmate, and he can be at Aoba's side, at Clear's side.

Aoba sits on the bed and puts Ren on his lap; Clear sits on the floor and hugs his knees, watching with concern. Ren feels the panel on his back pop open as Aoba presses the release button, and attempts to relax into the touch as Aoba plugs a cable in. His diagnostics appear in the air; it's behind him so he can't really see it, but he doesn't need to. He can feel the information flowing through his machine parts, feel his code outputting the information.

"This looks fine," Aoba says after a moment. "Your thought and emotion processing is looking really strained, though. The numbers shouldn't be this high."

"I'm fine," Ren says.

"Does Ren-san have something bothering him?" Clear asks. "If you're feeling and thinking more than usual, I mean."

He can't say it. "No. I suspect it's just a minor malfunction. Perhaps like an anxiety attack with no trigger."

"That shouldn't happen, though," Aoba says. "I mean, there has to be a reason for it..." he unhooks the cable and closes Ren's panel, then picks him up and starts feeling over his body, as if for any physical problem.

It feels -- uncomfortable. He's able to feel sensations, of course; Toue tech made them off a similar system as Clear was made, although with emotions and sensations a little more limited. And normally it wouldn't bother him -- exactly, at least. He's always felt a bit irritable and uncomfortable with fingers ruffling through his fur. But his sudden awareness makes it even more -- something. He feels hypersensitive to Aoba's long, strong fingers searching along his body under the fur, pressing against him.

He squirms. "Aoba. Aoba, please stop."

"Sorry. Does it hurt?" Aoba stops, looking at him with a tired concern.

"Ren-san, please endure," Clear says, his tone encouraging. "It's for the sake of your health!"

"I'm fine," Ren says. He's not. The sensation of Aoba touching him is still with him. He wants, again, to run. But by now he knows that's absurd. What good would that do? There's nowhere he could go. He would just worry them both again, convince them again that something was wrong. 

It feels like something is broken in him, though. For all that he's claiming he's well, he feels like something broke. Like he has to get away, like he has to do something, like he needs help. But that, he thinks, is just his feelings. It's just his awareness of who he is to them. That isn't anything really wrong. He just needs to learn how to pretend better. He used to have this. Why does he feel like he's grieving.

"Ren..." Aoba says, unsure, then puts him down on the bed. "All right. But, you know, if you feel anything at all different, tell me, okay? Even if it's not something I can figure out from the diagnostics, Granny'll have contacts who can help you out."

"They definitely can!" Clear says, and puts a hand gently on Ren's back. That, too, itches in a weird, skin-crawling way. "Since they were able to fix me all up and even transfer me -- I'm sure there's something we can do to help. Please don't avoid seeking help! I did, you know, and I caused so many troubles for Aoba-san and Tae-san. So if you think anything is wrong, let us know at once, okay?"

"I will," Ren lies.

***

Ren sleeps on his pillow in the room but, although requested, he doesn't go into sleep mode. He pretends to -- plans to later, at least, so that when Aoba starts him up he'll make the appropriate start-up noise -- but he still has things he needs to think about. So he closes his eyes and slows his breathing and pretends to sleep.

It is, in a lot of ways, a mistake. Although they're trying to be quiet about it -- conscious, of course, of the number of people in the house -- they absolutely are having sex. Ren's aware of that almost before he realizes he is. Aoba's panting, short, quick gasps of air, and his auto-monitoring of Aoba's health shows in incredible detail how it absolutely isn't nightmare or breathing problems. Aoba's system is practically lit up in arousal. There's no sensation shared in the monitoring -- his read of Aoba's health is simply that, a _read_ \-- but there very nearly doesn't have to be. The signals his body is giving off are clear enough.

Ren briefly wonders if he'd even recognize it if he could feel whatever Aoba's feeling. He'd been pushed down and disconnected before that was an interest in Aoba's life, muffled and unable to sense much; was in a body that lacked those urges or parts now. 

He opens his eyes.

Clear is sprawled upside down on Aoba, Aoba's cock in his mouth, lips dragging at it and groaning as if it gives him pleasure to be the one touching Aoba. Maybe it does; Ren is suddenly unsure if sex works like that. From where his head is, Aoba had been sucking Clear, too, but has turned his head aside out of (what his monitoring system reads as) a desperate need for air. His eyes are, fortunately, closed, but Ren sees the look on his face; cheeks red, brows drawn down, mouth open as ragged sounds and air tears from his mouth--

Ren suddenly can't stay in the room. He gets up, as quiet and subtle as he can be in the dark, pads to the door, nudges it open, and leaves. He remembers to close it behind him, but the sensation still pulls at him, his awareness of Aoba's heart rate, how much he's sweating, how aroused he is.

He trots down the stairs.

Nine is awake, reading on the couch, and Ren freezes almost guiltily in the doorway as Nine glances up at the flash of movement. "Good evening, Ren," Nine says.

"Good evening," Ren says. 

Politeness, more than anything else, carries him the rest of the way forward into the room. Nine reaches a hand out to him in the way people do with dogs and Ren obediently trots over. It may be easier than being treated as a son, at least.

But Nine pulls his hand back before Ren has fully arrived, and sighs, and gives him an awkward smile. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't understand the situation."

That ache begins again. "I know," Ren says. "Nor did I."

Nine pats the couch next to him. For a moment, Ren thinks of running from him again, but that's bordering on absurdity. There's no point any more. Nine knows. Ren knows, too. And he can't keep running. He needs to learn, instead, how to manage this.

He gathers himself and hops up onto the couch, turning around to get comfortable, and sits next to Nine.

"I fear I gave you a rather rude awakening," Nine says. "If I'd realized, I wouldn't have gone about it like that, you know?" His tone is genuinely apologetic, chagrined. 

Ren lowers his head a little, tongue lolling out. "I know," he says. 

"I can hear, you know," Nine says, almost conversationally. "Voices. I'm not like you and Aoba or anything. Instead, Toue was experimenting with consciousnesses."

It's a rather sudden change of topic, and he cringes internally a little at the idea of being put on the same level of reality as Aoba. "Oh?"

"The movement of consciousness between vessels. The ability to do that was the key part to his starting his research on you, I think," Nine says. "Because his goals revolved around the ability to project a consciousness onto others. Scrap, it's called, isn't it?"

"It is," Ren agrees. "I'm given to understand it ranges from projecting the willpower to inserting the entire consciousness into a subject whose thought patterns are at least somewhat comprehensible. According to how Tae described it, at any rate."

"Right," Nine says. "I was the other end of that research."

"Other end?"

"It's useless to develop a weapon if it's unusable," Nine says. He leans against the back of the couch and lets his hand drift to rest on Ren's fur. "So he created me. I say 'created', even though I wasn't made from scratch like you. There originally was a subject in here, but the tests more or less got him lost. What's left is me."

Ren shakes himself a little, dislodging Nine's hand. "I don't understand."

"I suppose not," Nine says. "Essentially, Toue ran experiments to prove that people's minds could receive the signals of other people's consciousnesses. Most of those subjects broke under it -- they went vegetative and stopped responding at all externally. I was the ninth -- ah, predictably, I'm sure." He laughed a little, then sighed when Ren didn't. "I hear other people's minds."

Tilting his head, Ren considers that. "So you're a telepath."

"To some extent," Nine says. "I can't always pick out individual words. I can, rarely, but what I pick out is more like... hmm, you know how there are types of music where you can't hear the lyrics, even if it's sung, but the melody is clear regardless of the words? Or, even if you understand the words, they don't make any sense, necessarily, because you lack the context to understand them."

"Yes, of course," Ren says. "Aoba listens to Goatbed."

That reference is clearly lost on Nine, who just shrugs and shakes his head. "Sometimes I can pick out words, sentences, like picking out what a singer's saying. A lot of the time, the way people think isn't in ordered structures. Telepathy, the way it appears in fiction, is reading a mind like a book or a letter -- something orderly, where you can 'read' every thought. But people's minds weave five or ten things at once together, sometimes just images, sometimes words, and they all involve things personal to them, so 'understanding' isn't as simple as reading. That's why I say I hear 'voices' instead."

"It must get overwhelming," Ren says.

Nine smiles, flashing white fangs. Ren almost asks how _that_ ties into Toue's experimentation, but the moment is past, and he doubts it matters now anyway. "It's not overwhelming," Nine says. "I love it."

That's a surprise. "Despite the confusion?"

"I'm hungry for it. I need it," Nine says. "If I stay in one place too long, it's like listening to a song over and over again. No matter how much I love it, it starts to grate on me. But as long as I move around, I'll always hear more and more voices."

"I see," Ren says, not entirely sure he does. 

"So I heard your voice," Nine says. "And I recognized it. I heard you back on the beach, just like I heard Aoba. You got quieter after that."

Ren closes his eyes. Upstairs, things are coming to a climax, he thinks, from the way Aoba's heart is racing and his muscles are growing ever more tense. "Yes," he says. "Aoba learned to speak on the outside then. I could not. So he moved more to the foreground, as was meant. He is the real 'self'. The other one and I are not. We're just parts that fell off. Perhaps we were never meant to exist."

"But you do exist," Nine says. "And that's important too."

"Perhaps so," Ren says. "Please don't tell Aoba."

Nine is silent long enough that Ren is forced to open his eyes again, look up at him. Their eyes meet, and Ren finds that Nine seems both grieving and angry, is, surprisingly, shaken by it. 

"Why?" Nine asks.

Ren fights the urge to withdraw, to cringe away. "Because..." he says. "Because he's happy like this, him and Clear. Because he'd worry about me. Because--"

And under that is the real reason, isn't it? he thinks. The other thing he's been avoiding in this revelation.

Because he loves Aoba.

Because if he's telling Aoba this there's no way he can hide it. If he's just an Allmate, he can have the feelings of just an Allmate. But he isn't. He doesn't. He's Aoba, and he's not Aoba. He wants to be part of Aoba, but has learned to see him from the outside. There's a word for that. It's love. It's desire. He wants to have hands like Clear's, to hold Aoba. He wants a heart like Clear's, that can love freely. He wants to be Aoba, again, driven entirely by the heart, and love Aoba, not as Aoba, but as Ren.

Upstairs, Aoba comes. 

Because if Aoba knew all this, he'd be put in conflict. Because perhaps it would be better to reject himself before Aoba would have to do it for him. Or worse, not, and ruin everything.

Ren closes his eyes again, hunching down over his front paws.

"The thing is," Nine says, gently, "it's not that I don't understand your feelings. But you're not the only one at stake here."

"...Nine?" Ren doesn't look up this time, but acknowledges that he's still listening. Even through this sense of mourning, he's listening.

"I'm guessing you moved to the outside because your voice got too quiet for him to hear," Nine says. "I don't know the details, but that's the only thing that makes sense."

"Yes."

Nine sighs. "And what about the third Aoba?"

"...The third Aoba?" Ren says, perplexed. They'd spent so many years as the two who had voices, and then Ren had forgotten all about him. He hadn't even thought to think of that one now. Suddenly, he thinks of Rhyme, of the other Aoba stepping forward to give orders. That was certainly him.

"In the current Aoba, he's muffled," Nine says. "His voice is nearly silent. I think Aoba is drowning him out. Perhaps like you were before."

"...So you want to bring Aoba's awareness to him? You can do that without me," Ren says.

Nine shakes his head. "...Even if I tried, Aoba would probably realize," he says. "And it's... the three of you are meant to be in this together, aren't you?"

"...I don't want to hurt them," Ren says.

"You love them, don't you?" Nine says.

***

Aoba is red-faced and embarrassed when he finds Ren already downstairs the next morning. As Clear and Tae set out breakfast, he pulls Ren to one side. "Hey, um, about last night," Aoba manages, a little strangled. "I thought you were still in sleep mode, so -- I'm sorry, if I'd known I wouldn't have... I mean, it's your room too!"

More embarrassed than ever, Ren shakes his head. "It's nothing," he says. "I'm simply an Allmate, after all."

"You know you're not like that to me," Aoba says, distressed. "You've never been just an Allmate to me, Ren."

Something inside him, cracking, already broken, gives way. His heart aches, though he doesn't have it. He turns and runs, out the front door, as fast as he can. Aoba yells after him, and chases, but he's small, and fast, and desperate, and gets himself lost in a crowd.

***

The next day, he finds Noiz.

The day after that, he goes home.

***

Aoba meets him at the door, absolutely bawling, and scoops him up into his arms; Ren barely has a chance to react to that when Clear joins him, _also_ crying, and he's trapped between the two of them, warm and tight and close.

"I thought I'd lost you," Aoba's saying. "I thought I'd lost you, Ren!"

"Ren-san, where -- Why?!"

There's not much he can do. He waits out the storm, aching, wanting to comfort them, just making awkward, placating noises. "Please," he says, when it finally abates. "Will you come upstairs with me?"

Aoba's voice cracks. "Why!? I'm mad, Ren!"

"...I'm sorry, Aoba. I'll explain it all upstairs."

"You -- you better," he manages, and doesn't let go of Ren as he goes upstairs, doesn't let go of Ren as he sits down on the bed with him. Ren wonders, abruptly, if Aoba will ever willingly let go of him again. He suspects already that Aoba has stayed home to wait for him; he was meant to be at work today. Ren had planned to try to get in on his own, wait for Aoba in his room.

Clear sits next to him on the bed and reaches for him again, digging fingers gently into fur between Aoba's arms. "Ren-san," he says, voice wobbling. "We were so worried ... we were certainly so very worried, Ren-san."

"I know. I apologize."

"You'd better have a damn good explanation!" Aoba almost shouts, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry, Ren, I'm so sorry I upset you, I don't know why--!"

"I apologize," Ren says. "This will be a little strange."

He pulls them into the Drive-By.

It's not something easy for him to do, exactly. Convincing Noiz to teach him the secrets had been hard enough. He'd made his share of promises to Noiz that Aoba would have to enact after this -- if Aoba even forgave Ren enough to enter into a Rhyme battle with him at his side. But eventually, perhaps as curious about the situation as he was interested in fighting Aoba again, Noiz explained how to do it.

Ren wouldn't be able to pull any opponents in on his own, normally. He's an Allmate, after all. But Noiz had been researching methods of creating Drive-By fields that pulled in anyone around an Allmate or set of Allmates; it doesn't need to be a specific opponent pair if the field isn't active in combat mode. There are all kinds of little technicalities like that; Ren doesn't need to understand every detail, so long as he knows what to do for this.

Aoba appears; so does Clear. Ren, too, appears in his online mode, the only human body he has. It's made to Aoba's specifications; he doesn't look like 'himself', but there is no other 'himself' to look like, either. He's been outside Aoba long enough that he can't, truly, think of himself as Aoba any longer.

If he did, he wouldn't feel this way.

"Ren," Aoba says, staggering and confused. "What are you doing?"

"I need to tell you something," Ren says. "...Both of you."

Clear looks around with some concern and confusion, then just shakes his head as the space resolves into the beach. It's not familiar to Clear, of course, but it is to Aoba; Ren sees Aoba's eyes widen with understanding, recognition.

"Aoba," Ren says. "You know how there is another you?"

Aoba nods, looking wary. "Yes," he says. "But I -- I've been suppressing him. I don't even really have headaches any more. If you're worried about that, it's fine! I think he's almost gone-?"

Ren swallows. "Aoba, no, you can't."

"...I have to? He's not safe," Aoba begins.

"There aren't just two of you," Ren says. "There's three."

Aoba opens his mouth to argue it, then closes it, eyes widening. He doesn't say anything; Clear looks between them, confused, but not adding anything, letting them have their chance. Ren notices Clear knit his fingers together, holding his own hands; it's something Clear does when anxious.

"There's three," Ren repeats again. He can't seem to bring himself to look at Aoba. The empty space in his throat aches. "I didn't remember it for a long time but something Nine said made me realize."

"Dad...?"

"...Yes," Ren says.

"What did he say...?"

"...That he wanted to get to know his other son."

"Oh my god," Aoba says.

"I'm not. I'm not his son," Ren says. "Because... you're the one he adopted, Aoba. But I'm not... you. I'm not you any more."

Clear raises a hand. "Um," he says. "I'm sorry to interrupt. Ren-san is Aoba-san?"

"No, I-- yes," Ren says. He's making a mess of this, he thinks. He's doing this all wrong. Someone else would do a better job of it. "Aoba split into three when he was very young. His mind did. There was him, Reason, and me, Restraint, and a third one, Desire."

"I see," Clear says. He takes a step toward Ren; he's smiling. "Perhaps that is why I was always so drawn to Ren-san! Although he is an Allmate, Ren-san is actually part of the same being who is my Master, isn't that right?"

Aoba's voice comes out an unsteady rasp. "Ren, you... but you're Ren."

"I'm Ren," Ren agrees. "...Aoba, the third part of you. That's as real as me."

"But he's dangerous!"

"...I transferred my consciousness into this body when you registered your Allmate chip online," Ren says. "Because at the time, you were so angry you didn't want me at all. 'Restraint'. The persona who tried to make you act in a reasonable way. In a way that kept you balanced. I was trapped in silence and in darkness. No matter how I yelled, you couldn't hear me. I thought that I was going to vanish either way, so it was fine if I severed myself from you. Then, at least, I could be at your side. I could help you, like I always wanted. And you wouldn't be alone."

Aoba staggered slightly; Clear is at his side in a moment, wrapping his arm around him, holding him up. "Ren... I can't think of you as a part of me."

It's strange. Even though they're just data right now, just their consciousnesses, it feels like every inch of him is aching. "I know," he says. "I can't either. I was you, but I'm not. I'm -- me. I wasn't supposed to be complete enough to be 'me', but I was cut away from the influences of your thoughts. Even with the limitations of my Allmate programming, I think I became more of a person than I was meant to be. So I can't think of myself that way. I'm sorry. But I can still disappear."

"Ren-san, no," Clear says.

"...It may be for the best. I'm hurting you both," Ren says. "But before I go anywhere, I want you to free him. He's you too. He's as important as I am. Perhaps he is dangerous, but the reason we exist is to keep him stable, the same as the reason that he and I exist is to keep you stable." The third is obvious, too; he doesn't need to say it. Aoba and Desire exist to keep Ren stable as well. Perhaps if that weren't the case he wouldn't feel like this now. "Perhaps he's dangerous to you as well right now. He's hurt, and scared, and you are hurting him. But what he wants more than anything is to be accepted, and to protect you, and to love you. I know, because I--"

He can't finish it. Aoba goes very still for a moment; when he opens his eyes, they're bright gold. "Restraint," he says.

So it's fine then. Ren lets out a breath, tension running from him. He can at least free him, help Aoba, help all of Aoba, before he sacrifices himself for their happiness. "It's Ren now, Desire."

"I suppose so," Aoba says. His eyes are glittering. "I'm not. I'm just Aoba."

"I know."

"Clear," Aoba says. He leans up, and kisses Clear; Clear makes a surprised noise, and kisses back. It aches. After, Aoba steps away, grins at Ren. "What's that bullshit about vanishing, huh?"

Ren stiffens. "I--"

"Are you going to tell him the truth about me and not about you?"

"That's..."

"He's already realized, you know. Deep down. I know, because I realized it."

Ren swallows. "Please don't. Allow me, with some dignity--"

"He's in love with me," Aoba says, "By which I mean, with you, Aoba," and his eyes fade back to hazel.

So there it was. Ren bows his head, not looking at Aoba, not looking at Clear, who had let out a little gasp.

"...Yeah," Aoba says. "I know."

"...Aoba-san, you knew?"

"Not before," Aoba says. "But when I realized he was a full person."

Ren shakes himself, tries to pull himself together past the agony coursing through him. "...So you see. I do love you, Aoba. I ...love you as one man loves another, not as yourself, and not as an Allmate. I'm sorry."

"Ren, don't--"

"But I also love Clear," Ren says. "So please. With some dignity, I'll withdraw. I would like you two to be happy together. I will submerge my identity again in order to lose this 'self' who has fallen in love."

He waits for -- what? Approval? Denial?

"Uh," Aoba says. "Nobody wants that."

"I don't want that either," Clear agrees. "Ren-san, you absolutely need to stay!"

Ren opens his eyes at how close Clear is at that, almost taking a step back. "Clear..."

Clear puts his hands on Ren's shoulders, turns him, pushes him inexorably toward Aoba. "Ren-san and Aoba-san have always been together. Loving Aoba-san is only reasonable."

Aoba makes a choked noise. "Hey, Clear--"

"I don't think that should change," Clear says. "If anything, I'm the odd one out, aren't I?"

"Clear, no--"

Ren shakes his head; Aoba hasn't moved away from Clear steering him close; they're looking at each other from inches away as a result. "...Clear. I love you both. I love you _together_. You are a very ... a very well-matched couple. I absolutely do not want to damage that."

"Why is it damage?" Clear says.

"I..." Ren looks between him and Aoba.

"Ah, jeez," Aoba says, and kisses him.

To think that it was everything he had hoped it would be would imply that he has ever entertained this as a hope. He hasn't. He's spent the last few days with nothing but despair, if anything, looking through his options and finding none but self-destruction. He knew that he couldn't stay at Aoba's side as an Allmate, but could not envision a situation where he could stay at Aoba's side as another being, as a man who loved him. Certainly only option seemed to be to destroy himself, or to reabsorb himself into Aoba through this connection of minds in Rhyme...

Not this.

Not heat and warmth and a flickering tongue, not Aoba's hands tightening on his shoulders, pulling him closer. Not a sense of acceptance, love, warmth -- why? he thinks, as he kisses Aoba, desperate for this moment to not end. Why is he being accepted?

Clear's fingers run through his hair, a gentle ruffle, reminiscent of his usual fluffing. Ren breaks the kiss with a gasp. "Aoba -- _Clear_ \--"

"I love Ren-san," Clear says. "I haven't considered this before, because it wasn't viable, but why would you have to break us up? Why would Ren-san not be able to join?"

"I..." Ren's at a loss. It's certainly not standard. It might be impossible. "Well--"

"Ren-san has gone on all of our dates," Clear says. "When we went to the aquarium, Ren-san came too. When we went to the summer festival that one time, of course, Ren-san was there enjoying it with us too. When we went to find Nine-san and Haruka-san, it's only natural Ren-san was at our side."

Aoba lets out a little laugh. "...When Clear puts things that way, it sounds kind of reasonable, huh?" He leans over and kisses Clear again.

Clear makes a little pleased noise and it doesn't hurt, Ren thinks. It, amazingly, doesn't hurt at all. He watches them kiss and the happiness on Clear's face and the relief on Aoba's -- it's relief, he thinks, because Clear gave him an out, some kind of possibility out of this whole mess. 

"But I'm an Allmate," Ren says.

"As am I," Clear says, when the kiss breaks. "More or less."

"No, you're a person--"

"So are you," Aoba says dryly. "More or less."

Ren finds himself at a loss. He knows this is how Aoba and Clear live all the time, how they make things work, by just finding what works to make them happy and going for it, but even though he was always included, he never exactly felt a part of it, never felt like he was living in the moment with them, no matter how little sense it made thinking in the long term. Just seizing the possibilities as they appeared.

Clear reaches for him. "May I?"

Ren closes his eyes.

Kissing Clear is different than kissing Aoba. Aoba is someone he's desperately in love with, longed for, never let himself hope for, had refused to even acknowledge his own feelings despite being deep in the midst of them. Clear is someone he loves, someone he expected to be with as long as he was functional, but had never even considered. But it's good, he finds. Clear is warm, and soft, and draws him close, kisses him with a shy curiosity.

Desire curls in him and tears well up in his eyes. "This doesn't make any sense," he says.

"But why don't we do it?" Aoba says. "Got any reasons?"

***

They make love on the beach in an awkward, experimental way. Clear and Aoba know each other's bodies; Ren doesn't know either, and he wonders if he's making a mess of it. He kisses and bites and licks at whatever skin comes near, tastes how different they both are. Clear has an almost flavorless taste, just traces of oil and something unique under a sort of strange blandness; Aoba is sweaty and familiar and rich. They don't do anything penetrative, the mechanics of three people a bit beyond them -- "There'll be other times," Aoba gasps, and Ren grasps his cock in a sudden desperation at the thought -- but touch and lick and press together, try to find out the way three people can touch, and Clear comes first almost deliberately, then pushes the two of them together. He sits in the water and encourages them with a soft melodic voice and presses Ren down so he's grinding against Aoba and licking his throat and tasting him, strokes Ren's hair and holds Aoba's hand as Aoba gasps and comes; Ren groans, shuddering on the edge, pulling back to look at Aoba and sees Aoba's heated eyes flash gold, sees Aoba's mouth split in a sharp grin, and he comes.

***

That night, he seeks Nine out again. He wants to give Clear and Aoba a little time alone together; for all the acting in the moment, he's sure there are things they'll need to discuss together, work out together, without Ren being right there.

There's another discussion going on in the living room as he approaches: "Tae, I know, but I really think you should tell him." 

"If I tell him he'll go haring off on a fool's errand to find him!"

"What's wrong with haring off, Mom?" Haruka protests.

He considers waiting outside, but it seems important and he knows if he does he'll eavesdrop, and if he enters now, he'll interrupt. Whatever this is, it's something they need to figure out, it seems. So he leaves again, comes back a while later and almost bumps into Nine in the hall on the way back.

"Ah, Ren," Nine says. He seems strained and unhappy, but dredges a smile up from somewhere. "How're you doing?"

"I am... well," Ren says. It's an understatement, which is a nice change of pace. "I wanted to thank you."

"Hah?"

"I told him," Ren says. "I think things will be better now."

The expression on Nine's face blossoms into a genuine smile. "Is that so? I'm glad, Ren. You have to trust him with these things, right? When it's actually in front of him, he'll do well by it."

"I -- yes," Ren says, a little embarrassed, but before he can figure out what to say about that, Clear comes dashing down the stairs.

"Ren-san -- oh! Nine-san, good evening!"

"Evening, Clear."

Clear scoops Ren up without a pause; Ren dangles from Clear's hands, a little winded. "Ren-san, you should come upstairs! After running away before, you worry Aoba-san."

"I was just down here--"

"I know, I know. I told him, I'm sure you haven't run off again, not now. But you know Aoba-san, he worries if he lets himself think too much. Well, of course Ren-san understands, he's the same way."

He lets himself get carried away by the flow of words. "Yes," he says, glancing back at Nine, who waves farewell with a little wiggle of his fingers.

"But! Regardless, Aoba-san will feel better if we both tell him that you aren't going anywhere now, right?"

Who could argue it? He may have given them both a scare, and as always, they'd work out ways to team up together to make things work out. 

"Yes," Ren says. "I'm not running away any more."


End file.
